Before the Dawn
by Pelaven
Summary: Set before the beginning of the series, follow Zero Two's journey in chasing her dream and to find out what makes her, her.
1. Winter's Bite

A longing gaze that darted down upon the horizon that no longer existed. White swallowed every single inch of tangible surface that was within its grasp. Her pale breath dampened amongst the whispers of the ever shrieking wind that kept her in a bind, confined to a small rugged cloak that separated the two in kind.

Only the soft and captivating whiteness alongside the silhouettes of swaying trees were in sight. Under the light crunches beneath her feet, she brightly wondered:

 _Why must it be like this?_

Each stride dove deeper and seeped into the relentless wilds, wanting to find a place that has not been breached by the elated surroundings bewitching the lands. Her mind flooded with thoughts and a peculiar one seamlessly slashed through the others without a care, winning the right to stand above the rest strongly and proudly:

 _Who…?_

Her eyelids flickered, the frost started setting in on her vision—diminishing her line of sight similar to a spotlight—it grew tired of singing and started to take darkened shapes as winter howled its might before her.


	2. Winter's Delight

Winter's embrace isn't that bad

with its ambiance ever so calm,

gently caressing your palm,

wishing it was only this glad

feeling in the grasp of your hand.

If only it was like this all the time,

as it always leaves you feeling sublime.

Sometimes, I cry at night,

Not knowing what is right,

With shadows lurking behind me,

Will there ever be light for me?

There's no guarantee

that I'll ever be free

of this wretched curse

that cannot be reversed.

Will I ever take flight

away from this gruesome fight?

The dream of a knight

setting my world alight

may never come,

as they always succumb

on the third spotlight,

as winter sings its wistful blight.


	3. Poppies

A small hatch popped open beneath the silent humming of the wind. Eternal as it had always been. Fluttering past the object that did not nudge on the barren earth. Before the breeze could caress her fully, she laid down the flower she carried and it sparkled. It was neither a primrose, a lily or a lilac. She knew it glittered under a spotlight, an experience befitting of the night sky that she had adored since she greeted it meticulously, always.

Brushing over the tender blossom, she could feel its softness pulsing at the tip of her fingers. Its skin was course and rough, unlike her bare skin, with wet pollen that seeped from the stamen. She might have barely mistaken it for a red poppy if it wasn't for it being fully drenched in its soggy pollen. A view that was all too familiar, yet her gaze couldn't wander beyond the beauty that lay within reach. A sight she became accustomed to, there was no need to reaffirm anything – it did not lose its breathless serenity.

Her mouth felt off, it was dry unlike the ocean that garnered her divided attention whilst he described it back then. Hearing how weird and amazing sand was. Soft golden soil that stretched along the endless ocean, a land riddled with merely water. The comforting warmth that hugged your feet cosily. She wanted to savour the waves that rode amongst the coastline, crashing upon the frontier of the beach before retreating back into the enigma below. How would it smell breathing in the shimmering aroma that quenched? Even the blazing hot sand that struck upon your bare skin in strong winds, she wanted to live and breathe in that moment. A moment that he once told her of.

Longing for such a vivid experience was her dream. A wish that might not be granted, similar to another that yearned for in her heart. But it was impossible. She knew that it was beyond reason, and yet she held it close and dear upon the glimmer of hope that it meant.

Flowers came in different shapes and sizes, ranging a plethora of colours known to our view amidst other flora. She didn't heed these, they could come in any look. Be it one with petals coloured with red all over. It was not worthy to make a note of. What mattered to her were the insides, that was what he taught her at least.

The flower sat still as it saw a glimpse of the night sky, withering away with the wind that carried it along under its third and final breath.


End file.
